To Break a King
by akillinginstinct
Summary: After being split from Ichigo by Aizen using the Hōgyoku and joining the Espada, Shiro decides that his former king may have some use yet. (Inspired by GYOHKOH (Masaki Rioka)'s doujinshi 'Cage') Warnings: Non-con, Dub-con, Psychological torture, Abuse, Violence, Murder.
1. Defiance and Loneliness

It had been a month since Aizen had used the Hōgyoku to split them. A month since he'd joined the Espada. The hollow twirled a key around one finger as he made his way through his section of Los Noches, to the door with a matching lock. Opening it, he switched the light to the room on immediately, hearing a grunt of protest from the white, king sized bed at its center. It was shielded from view by an equally white curtain that hung on either side, just sheer enough to show movement and shadow. White. It was the very definition of the room, not a speck of color invading its walls. It was the blinding white of snow, pure and clean.

The hollow moved silently to the foot of the bed, eyeing its occupant. A shinigami with fiery orange hair, metal cuffs on his wrists shackled to a metal collar about his neck with additional cuffs binding his ankles. The teen had brought his hands up to shield his eyes from the sudden light. Light had been a rare thing over the past month. Sound as well, the walls solidly soundproof.

It had been a month since Ichigo had had any real human contact.

"Behavin'?" the hollow questioned casually.

"Fuck you," Ichigo replied, lifting his hands just enough to peer at his now freed hollow from beneath. Even the clothes he'd been provided were white. He felt like he was in a hospital.

"At least yer on the damn bed this time instead'a hoppin' around like an idiot," Shiro said, moving around to the side of the bed.

"I'm going to kill you when I get this shit off," the teen promised, moving his hands enough to glare at the hollow with angry brown eyes.

"Lookin' forward ta it 'King'. If ya don't want me here, guess I'll just leave." The white haired hollow shrugged and walked away to no protest from the shinigami.

* * *

It was another month before he returned.

"Yo," the hollow greeted. For briefest instant, he could see relief on his former ruler's face before it was covered up. The shinigami scowled at him, eyes tearing against the sudden onslaught of light where there had been only darkness for a month.

"How long do you plan to keep me here?" he asked.

Ignoring the question, Shiro asked one of his own. "How're th' maids treatin' ya?"

There was confusion in the teen's eyes, but he answered. "They don't talk and they don't stick around." He shrugged. "They're okay." Shiro just smiled. They didn't talk or stick around because they were under strict orders not to. But Ichigo didn't need to know that.

"Y'must be bored. Wanna have some fun?" the hollow asked, leaning with his hands on the bed, his grinning face inches above Ichigo's own. The shinigami shrunk back into the pillow in surprise.

"What?" he questioned obliviously.

"I said, d'ya wanna have some fun?" his pale look-alike repeated. This time he made himself a little clearer, a cool hand slipping into the teen's shirt to run along the firm muscles there.

That was clear enough for Ichigo. "Get- get your fucking hands off of me!" he shouted, trying to squirm away when he found that the chain binding his hands to his neck was too short to allow him to reach the hollow's searching hand.

Chuckling, the hollow obliged. "Guess ya still ain't interested in any attention. I'll leave ya alone."

And he did. For another month.

* * *

The third visit went much like the second, though the look on Ichigo's face was unmistakable this time even when the teen tried to hide it. He was glad to see Shiro. Glad to see anyone. But the only one visiting him was Shiro. "Happy ta see me?" the hollow had asked.

"Like hell I'd be happy to see you," the teen had replied. But when he inevitably denied the hollow's advances once again, Shiro could swear he saw a 'wait' on the shinigami's lips as he turned to leave. A flash of desperation.

* * *

Another month.

The fourth visit got him the same incremental changes. Ichigo didn't even bother to hide his relief at the sight of Shiro this time. He tried to stall the hollow from what he knew was coming, taunting him, creating conversation. But Shiro wasn't having it. And this time, he didn't take no for an answer.

"I told you not to!" Ichigo shouted at him. The teen's shirt was pulled up over his head, his bound hands entangled in it.

"Just shut up an' enjoy it," the hollow replied, closing his lips over the other's in an attempt to stifle any further protests. A grunt left him as he felt teeth sink into his bottom lip. He waited a moment before realizing that Ichigo had no intention of letting go. Instead they sunk deeper, threatening to tear clean through his lip.

Hissing, the hollow brought a hand up and wrapped it around the boy's throat, fingers pressing in brutally. The teen held on several long moments longer before releasing the hollow's lip in search of air. A blue tongue snaked out to collect some of the blood dripping down his chin as Shiro released the vice-like grip on Ichigo's throat, leaving him gasping and coughing. "Y'know, I like it rough," he said, undoing his shirt. "But I think I got enough holes." He let it slip off.

Blood was drying on Ichigo's lips as he caught his breath, glaring at Shiro. As the shirt came off, his eyes were drawn immediately to the gaping hole in the center of the hollow's chest and he realized he'd never really seen Shiro without a shirt before.

Shiro stared back down at the teen for a moment, noting that he had lost weight, what little fat he had and some muscle mass. Without warning, the hollow dipped down, closing his mouth over one of Ichigo's nipples. "Wh- stop, what are you doing!?" Ichigo yelled. He could feel heat in his cheeks, embarrassment.

Offering no reply, the hollow sucked lightly on the hardened nub, circling it with his tongue before pressing the tip against it. He grazed it with his teeth as his mouth left, and he could feel his former king jolt beneath him.

"I said stop it," Ichigo repeated.

"Feel good?" Shiro questioned teasingly.

"It hurt," the shinigami insisted, his face getting redder by the second.

The hollow simply raised an eyebrow at him, flicking the same nipple with a thumbnail. It earned him another jerk from the teen, who was suddenly looking everywhere but at those piercing golden eyes. Smiling, Shiro reached between them and groped the other, feeling that Ichigo was beginning to respond to his attention.

"Get off!" The captive shinigami renewed his struggles, trying to pull his arms out of the shirt. "I'll kill you!"

Grinning, his darker half put a stop to it by placing a hand over both of Ichigo's, pinning them above his head. He repositioned himself on the other's body before leaning forward so that their groins touched, teeth giving the teen's exposed throat a sharp nip before he dared to capture the boy's lips again. A thumbnail dug into Ichigo's other nipple as he started to rock his hips into Ichigo's.

The teen was overwhelmed, unsure what to protest first. He tried to turn his head away, but Shiro's lips kept him locked. "Mhn!" he attempted, and the hollow replied by shoving his tongue into his mouth. The shinigami closed his eyes, as if he could block it all out. Now it would become a dream. A nightmare.

Except it didn't. He could feel himself growing against the hollow's own length as Shiro ground their hips together, and it was becoming a struggle to keep his own against the bed.

The hollow finally broke for air, leaving them both panting and giving Ichigo the chance to turn his head away, disgusted with himself, humiliated, and utterly unable to look his hollow in the eye. "Che, don't tell me yer still gonna pretend ya don't want this?" Shiro sneered at him.

"Shut up." It came out breathier than intended, and the teen shut his eyes again.

Sitting up, the hollow leaned far back to undo the shackles around Ichigo's ankles. It was the first time he'd had them off in four months. The shinigami groaned as he moved his legs, muscles cramped and wasted from disuse. The hollow set about relieving him of his pants next, and he found he no longer had the energy to do much more than squirm and make it difficult for his captor.

Reaching into a pocket in his own pants, the hollow drew out a small bottle of something that Ichigo couldn't immediately identify. It became clear soon enough when the hollow poured some of the contents into his hand, slicking up two fingers. The teen's eyes flew wide and he started to sit up only to be slammed back down by a hand against his chest.

"I'll kill you, I swear to God, Shiro!" The teen bucked with renewed energy, trying to throw the hollow off of his lower half. His captor merely forced a leg between his own, spreading them apart.

"Relax, or it'll hurt." The hollow smirked, relishing the look of fear on the shinigami's face. It was the only advice offered before the hollow was pressing a finger into him. Ichigo's breath caught and, despite the advice, every muscle in his body went tense. Shiro hadn't been lying.

He winced as the hollow continued to force his way past clenched muscle. "Told ya," Shiro said. Shutting his eyes a third time, the teen tried to relax his muscles. There was no keeping the hollow out and trying to hurt. Gradually, the pain was reduced to mild discomfort. Then, without warning, the hollow introduced a second finger.

"You- fffuck." Ichigo bit his lip as Shiro drove both fingers into him, the discomfort flaring back up to a burn as he was stretched. Suddenly, the hollow hooked his fingers, stroking something inside that gave Ichigo an intense feeling low in his abdomen. It seemed to spread throughout his body like electricity. Gasping, his hips came up off of the bed, drawing a laugh from the hollow.

The confusion on the teen's face was almost too comical, and before he could collect himself, Shiro had stroked the spot again. Again the boy's hips moved into it, a strangled moan escaping him before he could catch it. His hardened length had spilled pre-come onto his abdomen.

Scissoring his fingers, the hollow stretched him a little more before drawing his fingers out and crawling up Ichigo, whose breath now came in quickened pants. Grabbing the teen by the hair, he jerked his head back and crushed their lips together.

Ichigo didn't fight the kiss, simply letting it happen at first before need got the best of him and he found himself attacking the hollow's lips almost as fervently as the hollow did his own. Satisfied that the shinigami was distracted enough, Shiro slipped out of his own pants.

He found the bottle of lube again with one hand, snapping it open with a thumb and turning it upside down in his fingers to collect some in his palm before chucking it aside. Spreading it over his length, he shifted between Ichigo's legs, drawing them over his hips and positioning himself.

Ichigo caught on. "Mph!" he tried to shout unsuccessfully into the hollow's mouth, and when he tried to draw back to speak, Shiro followed until he was pressed back into the pillow beneath him. Grasping the teen's hip, the hollow thrust into him. Ichigo arched up against his hollow, gasping when Shiro finally let him up for air.

He was too busy catching his breath to say anything as the hollow took up a quick pace, driving himself deeper with each thrust until their hips were meeting. Reaching up, Shiro finally freed the teen's hands from his shirt, smirking when their grip immediately found his shoulders.

The hollow stared down at his captive king, noting that he could speak now if he wanted. Noting that he didn't. He wrapped a hand around Ichigo's cock, beginning to stroke it in time with his own thrusts, and everything the shinigami had been holding back came loose, unrestrained moans finally making their way past his lips.

The hollow ran a blue tongue over pink lips, taking the invitation when they parted and enjoying the vibration of the other's moans against his own. Fingers finding the teen's other nipple, he rubbed a thumb against it before giving it a sharp pinch. Ichigo pulled out of the kiss, and he watched as the other's head fell back, breath caught. He could feel his fallen king's body tense and tremble as he came, spilling onto both their abdomens. The sight was intoxicating, and few thrusts into clenching muscle later, he finished as well, his breath hot against Ichigo's neck.

The orange-haired shinigami looked dazed as the hollow sat up and pulled himself free. Chuckling, Shiro left him to ride out the high as he dressed. By the time he was finished, the teen had curled in on himself. Wordlessly, the hollow left the bedside, making his way to the door. With a sudden, sickening realization, Ichigo realized that Shiro intended to leave him like this, utterly bare and covered in their mess. The hollow's name came out in the form of a scream as the door clicked shut.

* * *

It was another month before he saw the hollow.

Though he'd figured out the pattern, it was impossible to tell time in the dark, soundless room of white. He greeted the hollow eagerly when he arrived, pushing aside what had happened last time. Locking it up somewhere dark and forgotten. "Happy ta see me?" Shiro asked as he arrived at the bed's side.

"Yeah..." Ichigo admitted reluctantly, avoiding the hollow's eyes and shielding his own as they adjusted to the light. Though his ankles had been left unbound since Shiro's last visit, he'd only made two additional escape attempts. The wrist cuffs needed to come off if he was going to get anywhere.

"Good. Y'must be bored again by now, right?" The hollow started to climb onto the bed. "Want me ta entertain ya?"

Ichigo barely let him finish before replying. "Get off." There was an iciness to his voice. For a few moments Shiro didn't move, expressionlessly watching the teen. Brown eyes locked on yellow. Defiant. The hollow stood up, smirking.

"That's cold, 'King'." Ichigo's expression remained unchanging. "Well, if that's what ya want." Turning, he walked away. As the hollow left the room, he's certain he heard a muffled sob.


	2. Pleasure and Pain

Another month found the hollow at Ichigo's bedside once more.

The teen had attempted to stall him again, wincing when Shiro offered to 'play' with him. "No," he replied. The hollow didn't draw things out this time, simply turning and leaving. He was about half way to the door when that wonderful word came. "Wait!" There was desperation in it, the fear that he'd already lost his opportunity for 'human' contact for another month.

Shiro could see his outline through the sheer curtains. The teen had risen up onto his knees in urgency, facing the direction the hollow was in. With curiosity, Shiro noted that he hadn't left the bed.

Silently, he returned, drinking in the expression of relief Ichigo gave him. The orange haired shinigami broke eye contact after a moment, looking conflicted. "Did y'have somethin' ta say?" Shiro asked, impatience in his voice. "Yeah," the teen replied, letting himself fall back against the bed, his head turned away from the hollow. "I don't care what you do. Just... don't go." The hollow grinned widely. Crawling onto the bed with the shinigami, he grabbed the chain connecting the cuffs to the collar and jerked it towards himself, drawing Ichigo's hands upwards with them.

"Want me ta take these off?" he asked. Ichigo looked shocked. Was it really going to be that easy? "...Yeah?" he replied, uncertain of what game the hollow might be playing. Shiro wordlessly unlocked the cuffs, watching as the teen took the opportunity to stretch. It hurt. "Fuck." Ichigo groaned at the intense burn his muscles gave in protest. The hollow snickered. "Ya've endured worse." He reminded the shinigami. How many times had he been the only thing that had kept the fool alive? "Yeah," the teen agreed.

Moving to lay across his look-alike's body, the white haired hollow started to lick and nip along the other's neck. Ichigo didn't protest. Didn't struggle. He didn't really react at all, actually. Freedom was at the tip of his fingers. It was as the hollow moved a leg between his own that he made his move, shoving Shiro off of himself and frantically leaping from the bed.

There were no windows in the room. How had he forgotten? Desperate, panicked, he darted for the door only to find the expected. It was locked. Screaming, Ichigo slammed his fists against it before becoming aware that Shiro was standing behind him, watching. "...Ya didn't really think this through too well, did ya?" the hollow asked, amusement in his voice. "Never really was yer strong point." Reaching out, he grabbed the shinigami by the back of the collar, beginning to drag him back towards the bed.

"Kh!" The teen grasped at the front of the collar as it pressed into his throat, stumbling back along with his hollow, who shoved him onto the bed and gave him a cold look. "Where'd ya think ya were gonna go?" Shiro asked. "Past this room. What were ya gonna do? No zanpakuto, stuck in a fortress full'a Espada and Aizen himself. An' y'don't got my powers ta depend on anymore." Ichigo stared back up at him wide-eyed. He was right.

Where had he thought he was going to go? He hadn't. All he'd thought about was escaping. The how would come later. "Che. It never ceases ta amaze me how fuckin' dumb ya are," the hollow said, moving to leave. "Where are you going?" the teen blurted, panic rising in his chest. Shiro turned to raise an ashen eyebrow at him. "I'm leavin'. Why?" Sitting up at the edge of the bed, Ichigo looked down at his lap, as if he'd find the answers to everything laid there. Another month. The shinigami's eyes suddenly took on a wild look.

Jerking his head up, he pleaded with his hollow. "I'm sorry! Look, I'm sorry okay?" Shiro just stared at him, expression unchanging. "...I won't do it again," Ichigo said carefully, and when the hollow still stood unmoving, the desperation crept into his voice again. "You can put them back on!" Shiro had to contain the laughter building in his throat, carefully keeping his face even. "Y'get one chance. Do it again and I'm leavin' ya here ta rot for good."

Again there was relief on the boy's face. "Yeah. I won't do it again." Leaving the cuffs undone, the hollow climbed onto the bed again, taking up where he left off. This time Ichigo made hesitant movements in return, leaning in when the hollow pressed a hot tongue just beneath his ear and parting his legs when Shiro pushed one of his own between them.

His hand suddenly reached out to grip the hollow's forearm when Shiro began to lick and suck on the area just below and behind his ear. Feeling the shinigami shudder beneath him, he grinded his hips against the teen's a few times, sitting up to observe the flush that had crept into Ichigo's cheeks before slipping out of his shirt. Ichigo helped facilitate the removal of his own shirt by raising his arms and lifting his head so that the hollow could pull it off.

The teen moved into the kiss as Shiro pressed their lips together, eyebrows furrowing when he noticed that Shiro was being rougher this time. Pain was far from something he was unused to. Battle was something he sought out and, admittedly, enjoyed. He'd grown almost alarmingly used to pain. After a minute, he'd decided he liked it, gasping when the hollow bit into his lip almost as hard as he had bitten into the hollow's months ago.

How long had it been since he'd fought? Since he'd felt pain? The sharp ache in his lip reminded him of it. Groaning, he tried to return the bite, but Shiro grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back. The hollow tasted the blood running from his lip with a long lick along his chin. Releasing Ichigo's hair, he went for the boy's neck, and the teen yelled when it was teeth that found him again.

He caught sight of the hole in Shiro's chest once more as the hollow began to sit up and, overcome by his curiosity, reached out a hand to touch it. His fingers had just made contact with it's edge when Shiro's hand caught him by the wrist in a crushing grip. The hollow hissed. "Don't touch."

Ichigo could swear he saw pain in Shiro's eyes. He couldn't tell what kind. "Sorry..." he said. Releasing the shinigami's wrist, the hollow wordlessly set about removing their pants. The teen's face had taken on a deeper shade of red and he'd turned his head aside by the time Shiro was climbing back up him. "Yer still gonna blush? After last time? Che, ya really are pitiful."

Ichigo's mouth set in a thin line but he didn't say anything, so the hollow went back to toying with his ear, nipping along the soft edges. As the hollow shifted, Ichigo felt his erection brush against his own, and he'd eagerly brought his hips up for more of that friction when long, ebony nails suddenly drew sharply down his side, hard enough to split skin. The shinigami gasped, arching beneath the hollow.

"Shiro," he breathed. He hadn't meant to, and he loathed the neediness he heard in his own voice. The hollow's chuckle cut through him, a wound of it's own, but he didn't have time to dwell on it as a pallid hand wrapped around both of their erections, pressing them against each other. Ichigo groaned at the heat of the other's length against his own, meeting Shiro's lips as the hollow began stroking them together.

After a couple of minutes, the hollow broke the kiss, leaving them both panting. "Y'like it?" he questioned the shinigami, running a thumb over the head of both their cocks. "Yeah," Ichigo gasped shamelessly. There would be time for that later. Smirking, the hollow pressed his mouth over the bite he'd left on the teen's throat, licking and sucking at it. The wet heat against the dull ache drew a shaky moan from the teen and, without thinking, he placed a hand on the back of the hollow's head.

The hollow's soft laugh was lost to the ringing in the shinigami's ears as he came with a yell that he attempted to stifle with the back of his hand. Slowly running his tongue over the bite one last time, the hollow lifted his head to catch his former king's pleasure glazed eyes. Releasing Ichigo, he took a quickened pace on himself, pumping his hand over himself until he too had climaxed.

The shinigami was surprised when, instead of immediately dressing to leave, the hollow slipped down onto the bed beside him. Blinking, he turned onto his side to face the hollow beside him, grateful for the additional attention. "Ichigo," Shiro said, reaching out to hook a finger in his prisoner's collar. "D'ya know what this stands for?"

The question took the teen by surprise. "...No?" The hollow gave the collar a small tug. "It signifies my ownership of ya," he explained. Ichigo jerked as if he'd been hit, ducking his head to hide his face. Silent. Satisfied that the shinigami had gotten the picture, the hollow released the collar. The teen neither protested nor fought when Shiro placed the wrist cuffs back on, and he stayed the few minutes it took for Ichigo to fall asleep, silence between them all the while, before slipping out.

* * *

Another month.

Ichigo reminded him somewhat of a dog, lighting up when he came to visit once more. The shinigami's expression soon turned to confusion at the cold look the hollow gave him when he'd reached the bed's side. "...Shiro?" he questioned carefully. "M' bored of ya." Without warning, the hollow had knocked him back onto the bed, climbing onto his chest and wrapping two ivory hands around his throat.

The teen's eyes flew wide, full of panic and question, as his hands found their grip on the hollow's wrists. But the hollow wasn't playing, fingers pressing brutally into the shinigami's throat. Thrashing, Ichigo tried to throw Shiro off, to pry his hands away from his throat. He couldn't even budge the hollow, and it wasn't long at all before he was out of energy. Weak. When had he become this weak?

Black began to cloud the edges of his vision. He was really going to do it. Shiro was going to kill him. His hands fell away from the hollow's and he shut his eyes, unable to form coherent thoughts any longer. That's when the pressure around his neck was lifted.

Air was drawn in in a sharp gasp before he dissolved into a fit of coughs, more gasps for precious oxygen coming between. When he'd finally collected himself enough, he looked up at Shiro, trembling. "Why!?" The hollow gazed down at him dispassionately. "Cuz' now you'll remember. I can kill ya any time I want." Finding the shinigami's hands, he unlocked the cuffs before letting him up.

Ichigo sat up slowly, rubbing his throat with one hand. The shape of the hollow's hands were imprinted on it. "I didn't need a reminder," he croaked. Shiro put his arms around the boy as if to soothe him. "Poor Ichigo. Ya didn't really think I got bored of ya, did ya?" The shinigami was still shaking despite his best efforts to stop. When was the last time he'd been that scared? Probably on one of his other near death experiences. He shut his eyes.

The hollow was much gentler when he pushed the teen back on the bed a second time, leaning over him with a hand on either side. Ichigo looked up at the smirking hollow with eyes that were clear windows to the slowly breaking mind within. "You can't possibly think I want to..." he said slowly. "I could always leave," the hollow offered.

Ichigo swallowed hard and turned his head away. "No..." It was so soft as to be nearly inaudible, his voice cracking as he reached up to grasp the front of Shiro's shihakushō. As if it would keep the hollow there with him. Smiling, the hollow leaned down, lips brushing the hair near the teen's ear. "Good," he said softly, planting a kiss there.

The hollow stayed with him again, lounging beside Ichigo as they both came down off of the high of orgasm. Just as Ichigo was about to fall asleep, he felt a tug at his collar. "Mmn?" The teen looked up, blinking sleepily. "Tell me what this means," Shiro said. The shinigami suddenly looked stricken. After several moments of silence, Shiro spoke again. "If ya want me ta come back, anyway." Ichigo felt panic spike in his chest.

"I-it signifies your..." His face contorted and he hesitated before continuing. "your ownership of me..." The shinigami covered his head with his arms. The hollow smiled. "Good. I'll stay with ya til' ya fall asleep." A slow nod behind the protective cage of arms was the only response he got.


	3. Broken Crown

It was two months later. Two visits later.

Ichigo was beyond thrilled to see Shiro again, though his expression turned sheepish quickly as he raised his arms in front of himself. They were unshackled. "You forgot to put them back on yesterday... I-I... think it was yesterday...?" He'd more or less given up attempting to keep track of time. It was impossible.

Shiro snickered. "So I did, s'why I came back. It was yesterday." He was pleased to see that the shinigami hadn't even attempted to escape. He had left the cuffs off on purpose, telling the teen to shut up and lie down when he'd tried to alert him to it the previous day as he'd left.

Stepping forward, the hollow hooked a finger in the front of Ichigo's collar. "Tell me what this means." Every month the same question since the time he'd wrapped his hands around the shinigami's throat. "It signifies your ownership of me," Ichigo replied, fluid and without hesitation. Shiro would never get tired of hearing it. "Good boy," he purred, petting the other's hair.

For a moment, Ichigo looked conflicted between being uncomfortable and being elated at the praise. "I'll stay with ya t'day too." The hollow added. Attention two days in a row was unthinkable. It was the best reward he could have been given. Ichigo chose elated.

* * *

Shiro slowly began visiting more frequently, until every week found him at his pet's bedside rather than every month.

Ichigo had both arms and legs wrapped around the hollow, shamelessly moaning with his head thrown back as the force of Shiro's thrusts shook the bed beneath them. The hollow took full advantage of the exposed flesh, running a hot tongue along the sensitive skin of the teen's throat and then nipping along it so that little red marks were left behind. Broken capillaries. He enjoyed leaving marks on his toy. Some of the marks he left on the shinigami would last weeks.

Lifting his head, he observed the moaning shinigami for a moment before reaching to hook a finger in the front of his collar. He had hardly gotten his finger through when the response came. "Yours!" Ichigo gasped. The hollow had to hide his surprise, smiling and leaning down to cover the teen's mouth with his own. Ichigo's moans hummed against his lips.

It was the second time he'd fucked the captive shinigami in a row, the teen having begged him for more. Parting lips Ichigo panted for air and tried to grasp his own neglected length only to have his hand knocked away by Shiro. "Please!" He gasped, clutching at the hollow's arm. "What d'ya want?" Shiro asked. "More," the shinigami said breathlessly. "That ain't very clear, Ichi."

The teen groaned, his painfully hard erection untouched. "Please, Shiro, I want to come!" Shiro's hand closed around him and he arched, moving his hips back to meet the hollow's thrusts. Shiro finished first, thrusting deep into his former king as he came. Leaning down, he gave one of Ichigo's nipples a sharp nip, sending the boy over the edge as well.

A grin spread across his face when the shinigami choked out his name as he climaxed.

* * *

It was another two months later.

Shiro arrived to find Ichigo already stripped, his clothes neatly folded at the end of the bed. The teen smiled at him. "I knew it was getting close," he said. The shinigami couldn't have known the exact day. For all Shiro knew, he'd been like that for several days in anticipation of the one the hollow would arrive.

Moving closer to the bedside, he noticed that Ichigo was already getting hard. Just the sight of him was enough now. It gave him the most wonderful sense of power. The shinigami leaned up onto his knees and extended his arms for his cuffs to be removed. As soon as he was relieved of them, he put his arms around his hollow's neck.

"Did ya miss me?" Shiro asked, placing a hand against Ichigo's cheek. "Yeah. A lot," the teen replied very seriously. Removing a bottle of something from his pocket, the hollow handed it to Ichigo, who knew exactly what to do with it. Sitting back on the bed, the shinigami opened the bottle and poured some of it's contents into his hand before closing it and placing it on the bed.

Shiro moved to sit on the bed and watch as Ichigo slicked up his fingers, face flushing with arousal as he reached between his legs and pressed them into himself, first one and then the other. His breath started coming faster as he fingered himself, but he knew better than to touch his aching erection.

Removing his hakama, the hollow snatched up the bottle of lube as the other prepped themself, coating himself with it. "On yer stomach," he ordered. Ichigo obediently laid across the bed on his stomach, his head on the pillows. Crawling over to the shinigami, the hollow inserted two fingers first, eliciting a soft moan from the orange haired teen as he moved them slowly in and out.

Removing them, he straddled the shinigami's backside, replacing them with his cock. Ichigo gasped and clutched at the pillow beneath him as Shiro entered him, drawing a chuckle from the hollow. "Yer gonna need that pillow..." he said as he began to ride Ichigo with deep, hard thrusts.

The shinigami clutched the pillow tighter, moans that would otherwise fill the room muffled against it. Reaching forward, the hollow yanked his head back by his hair, enjoying the explosion of unhindered sound the other emitted. Letting Ichigo's head drop, the hollow traced an area of raised skin along the side of the teen's neck where a particularly enthusiastic bite had been.

Ichigo turned his head enough to peer up at Shiro with one eye. "You're le- leaving... scars," he commented between shaky breaths, smiling up at him. The hollow smirked back down. "I know," he said, before quickening his pace. Gasping, the shinigami buried his face back in the pillow, groaning and taking part of it between his teeth.

After a few moments he felt Shiro pull free of him, but the hollow was grabbing one of his hands before he could form a question, pulling the shinigami into his lap. "What?" he blurted in confusion before he realized what Shiro was asking for. Straddling the hollow's lap, he reached down to position Shiro against himself, bringing himself all the way down over the other's hardened length with a soft sound of pleasure.

Pulling him closer, the hollow engaged the shinigami in a hard kiss, placing his hands on the other's hips. Ichigo moved his tongue aside to allow Shiro to explore his mouth with his own, wrapping his arms around his captor's neck. As they broke for air, the teen began moving, already breathless as he drove his hips down over Shiro's cock.

He soon found that if he pressed close enough to his hollow, he could get some stimulation for his own aching need. He placed his head over the hollow's shoulder with a moan, quickening his thrusts. "Ichigo," the hollow said suddenly, breathy.

The shinigami gave a pleasant shudder at the sound of his name falling from the hollow's lips. It was a rarity. He pulled back enough to look at his hollow questioningly. "Yes?" Shiro raised both hands, taking hold of the collar about the teen's neck and casually manipulating it between fingers. "...Think I should take this off and set ya free?"

Ichigo's eyes slowly widened until the whites were visible clear around. "No!" he gasped, beginning to tremble as he raised both hands to grasp Shiro's wrists in desperation. Inside the hollow was laughing, but outside he gave a look of confusion. "Why not? Ya don't wanna be free?"

"No! Please, I'll be good, please don't take it off! No!" Tears were streaming down the shinigami's face as his words devolved into incoherent screaming. Releasing the collar, Shiro pulled the teen to himself, wrapping his arms around the beautiful mess he'd created. "Hey, calm down. I won't take it off, okay?" Ichigo sobbed into his shoulder, shaking. He'd wrapped his arms and legs around the hollow, pressed their bodies as tightly together as they went. As if he could merge them into one being again.

"My poor broken king," the hollow said softly over the shinigami's shoulder, a grin spreading across his face.

* * *

It was the next day.

Ichigo was sitting on the bed, oblivious to the battle raging outside thanks to the sound proof walls. He was about to let himself fall back onto it when an explosion tore a hole in the wall to his quarters. Gasping in surprise, he watched the smoke filter into the room, waiting to see what figure would come with it.

The shinigami that stepped through was short and petite with dark blue eyes that showed nothing but fierce determination and resolve. "R-Rukia...?" Ichigo asked in disbelief. How long had it been since he'd last seen the tiny shinigami? "No time Ichigo, we couldn't get Soul Society to cooperate with your rescue no matter how hard we tried. There are very few of us. Our goal is to get in and out as quickly as possible!" Rushing towards his bedside she took his hands, examining the cuffs on them.

"Wait... Rukia," Ichigo began. "I told you, there's no time, Ichigo!" Grateful that they weren't reiatsu resistant, the shinigami easily broke them with a kidou spell. "We'll get this wretched thing off you later," she said, touching the collar around his neck.

The orange haired teen suddenly went tense, eyes flying wide. In a flash of movement he'd grabbed Rukia's zanpakuto from it's sheathe. "No!" he shouted, blind panic on his face as he lunged to his feet, bringing the blade down across the chest of the raven haired woman.

Rukia stumbled back a few steps, looking down at the gash drawn across her chest as blood began to soak into her shihakushō. Her shaking hands pressed against it and she looked up at Ichigo, eyes full of pain and betrayal. "Ichigo... why!?" The teen's grip was white knuckled on the zanpakuto as he held it out before him. "You can't take it off!" he shouted desperately at her, eyes wild.

"Ichigo... put down the zanpakuto." She tried to sound soothing. Something was clearly wrong. Very, very wrong. The teen's eyes darted to the side for a moment, as if he was considering it, and Rukia took that chance to lunge forward, one hand wrapping around the hilt of the sword and the other finding the sleeve of his other arm.

"Ichigo, please give me the zanpakuto!" she pleaded. The teen's eyes snapped back to her. "You can't remove this! This... this is a symbol of Shiro's ownership of me!" Rukia's eyes widened at the desperation in his. Hadn't Shiro been the name of his inner hollow? "Ichigo... what have they done to you?" Bringing a leg up, Ichigo kicked the petite woman away from himself.

Rukia gasped as she stumbled back, coming away with nothing more than part of Ichigo's sleeve. There was no time for her to recover, no hope for her to react in time, as Ichigo brought the sword down against her in a second slash. "Kh!" Falling back, she grabbed for the sheer curtain behind her only to have it tear and come down with her.

Panting against the pain, her eyes flew wide as she saw above herself. Ichigo was standing over her with her zanpakuto raised, the blade facing down. "Ichigo, don't do it!" she screamed.

Time seemed to skip before she suddenly realized that she was staring at Sode no Shirayuki jutting from her chest. "Ichi... go," she choked. As black closed in, she saw the look of pain and conflict he wore as he stared down at her.

When Shiro arrived at Ichigo's quarters to find that it had already been broken into, he was certain that the shinigami was gone. But a few steps into the room had him noticing a petite hand that stuck out past the bottom of the bed. One that was covered in blood. Tilting his head like a curious dog, he continued inward, coming around to find the corpse of Rukia Kuchiki.

Glancing up, he found Ichigo sitting at the center of the bed, his legs drawn up against himself and his arms covering his head. The teen shifted enough to peer at the hollow past his arms with one wide eye. "...She tried to take it off..." The corner of his lip twitched up in what might have been a smile if it wasn't so pitiful looking.

The sounds of battle outside were dying down now and of no concern to Shiro. The rest of Ichigo's friends were surely either dead or retreating. But this one... Rukia Kuchiki had been nearly as important to him as his own family.

Stepping over the corpse of the small shinigami, the hollow came to the bed's side, embracing Ichigo as the teen rushed to him. Ichigo cried into the front of Shiro's shirt, clutching it tightly. "She was going to take it off!" The hollow pet the shinigami's hair soothingly. "But she can't now, right?" he said. How pathetic his king had become. A bug he could crush with words alone. The teen nodded slowly against him.

"Ya've been a very good boy t'day," Shiro commented, running fingers through orange hair. Ichigo looked up at him. "...Does that mean you'll stay?" The hollow grinned. "I'll stay."

He pushed the shinigami back on the bed and climbed up, laying his body along Ichigo's. They laid like that for several minutes, content with just eachother's warmth before Shiro lifted his head from the teen's shoulder. "Ichigo."

Alarm rang in the shinigami's eyes, one hand going to his collar, and the hollow chuckled. "I ain't gonna take it off, don't worry." A finger gently traced the scar on Ichigo's neck again. "Ya'll be mine forever, right?" Ichigo blinked before smiling up at his hollow.

"Yeah, forever."


End file.
